


broodmare

by clarakent (niewanyin)



Series: Batfamily AOB Week [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alpha Bruce Wayne, Alpha Dick Grayson, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bad Parents Jack and Janet Drake, Hurt Tim Drake, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Jason Todd, Omega Tim Drake, Protective Jason Todd, Rape Recovery, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:21:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23387296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niewanyin/pseuds/clarakent
Summary: The Drake's want Dick to father their grandchild, and they don't care how either he or Tim feel about it.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Dick Grayson
Series: Batfamily AOB Week [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1682227
Comments: 14
Kudos: 341
Collections: Batfamily AlphaBetaOmega Week





	broodmare

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day One of Batfam Omegaverse week for **Breed the Omega** prompt.
> 
> I want to thank Pax, zukachi, and Mytosis for reading through this, and GoddessOfRoyalty for making this week.

Janet Drake is a woman of above average height, with honey blonde hair that softly curls out of it's up-do and sharp blue eyes that calculate everything going on around her. Her hand carefully holds a champagne flute, and her smile reminds Dick of a shark's. She's an alpha, a strong one, with a scent of old parchment and bergamot and wax, a strange scent that doesn't sit right in Dick's nose. She's leaning in close, and for as brightly as she's smiling, her eyes are still dead.

"You're an impressive young alpha," she purrs. "They are certainly feeding you right over at Wayne Manor."

Dick smiles tightly. "Thank you," he mumbles. "Alfred won't let me go a day without skipping a meal."

She laughs, and it's harsh. It instinctively makes Dick flinch, and he understands he can't trust this woman. He doesn't know what she wants, though he's starting to have a small idea. She's a married woman, and she's one of the few wives in the Gotham elite that's on equal standing with her husband, and the only one that's an alpha. Dick has been getting looks from these kinds of women, from all kinds of women, since he was sixteen years old and hit his growth spurt, and being twenty-one has only made it grow worse.

He's trying to figure out how exactly to extract himself from this situation, when she lowers her voice, trying to keep it light and playful, but the dead look in her eyes is still trying to ensnare his soul. "Tell me, have you started thinking about when you're going to want to start your family?"

He blinks. Well, this is new. Most of the older wives who proposition him just want him to fuck them, not talk about when he wants to start a family. In fact, their goals are exactly the opposite of that question. They want a fuck with the young alpha Wayne heir, and they certainly don't want him to be getting married. Unless it's to their young daughters or omega sons that they can live vicariously through.

But Janet Drake just has the son, unpresented at thirteen, and-

Oh.

The Drake's have always been obsessed with getting to the top of Gotham society, at least as soon as Jack and Janet Drake took charge of the company and started making waves in society. He also knows that they're omegaphobic as hell, obsessed with making sure that their young son will be the perfect alpha heir that they so desire.

Dick thinks that the alpha heir isn't an alpha, but that fact, while surely incredibly upsetting and making the Drake's furious, isn't enough to stop them.

He narrows his eyes, anger rising up in him over what he now sees as the blatant attempt to try and arrange a betrothal between Dick and this young boy. Tim, he thinks. He raises his drink to his lips, forcing himself to take a few sips because otherwise he’s throwing it against the floor and starting a tirade against Janet Drake, demanding answers on how a person can be so cruel to their child, to any child frankly.

She watches him avidly, and the gaze makes Dick's shoulders tense and he immediately goes into fight mode, mind analyzing all situations so that he can get to the figurative jugular and make sure that after she falls with Dick, she won't try to arrange Tim's hand in marriage to another alpha, one with much less of conscience than Dick.

But there's something strange about the drink, and Dick's mind immediately races back in time, trying to make sure that he always had it in his grasp.

But he can't remember.

He looks at Janet Drake, who's smirk is something snakelike and evil. "Oh, are you feeling alright? Careful, these drinks are strong."

He opens his mouth to snap curses at her, but he can't say anything. He takes a step, but stumbles, only caught and prevented from hitting the floor by a pair of arms that he knows belong to Jack Drake.

"Come on, Dick," Janet whispers, her voice starting to fade in and out of his mind. "We have a young omega that we'd  _ love _ for you to meet."

*

Tim doesn't know what he's supposed to be doing. His parents had forced him into his room, and injected him with something that felt like fire in his veins, coursing through his system and making him scream. He's vaguely aware that slick is starting to leak in between his thighs and that his body is trying to set itself on fire, which makes him think that it's a heat inducer. He doesn't know why they gave it to him. All he knows is that it's the most painful thing that he's ever been through in his life.

It doesn't die for hours, until he's left shaking and crying in his bed, naked because he was stripped at some point. He doesn't remember it throughout the haze of pain and fire, but it's the logical explanation. He certainly couldn't get out of them himself, his entire body can't move thanks to how it throbs in pain, beating the inside of his mind with how much he wants to slither out of his body and die.

He doesn't know how long he's curled up in his bedroom, staring at the wall before his mother comes into the room. She looks at him, her nose wrinkling in disgust as she takes him in. She hates the idea of natural biology. Tim was conceived through a surrogate, and not because his mother couldn't carry him like many alpha women. No, she just didn't want to ruin her body. And Tim knows that they didn't bother doing anything for his surrogate other than making sure that she had money.

They weren't there for his own birth.

Their dig was more important.

Tim was never meant to be a child. He was always supposed to be the heir, nothing more and nothing less.

She crosses her eyes and looks over him critically, her mouth turned up in a sneer. "You know, you really are a disappointment." She sighs. "But you can still be of use. Me and your father discussed it, and we found the best way for you to help us improve this line."

"R-raise my little sibling?" Tim asks, his teeth chattering together. He's seen the pamphlets. They're looking for new surrogates, who can carry the heir they want so desperately. And they're never going to give Tim a chance to prove it, so convinced that an omega will never live up to their standards.

His mother raises an eyebrow. "No. Your own child."

Tim blinks at her. "I'm fourteen."

"And the doctors said that you're fertile and capable of having a baby and more." She sighs again, and adopts a more pleasant tone, one that Tim doesn't buy for a minute. "See, we found a good alpha that's going to fuck you. They’re in an induced rut, Timmy, so they won't hold back. And you're going to get pregnant, and soon as a certain amount of time passes, we're going to find them and tell them what they did. Of course, out of guilt, they're going to agree and you're going to be a happy wife and make sure that we have bonds to a great family of Gotham."

The fear encompassing Tim's heart chokes his throat and blinds his eyes. He can't believe what he's hearing. He can't believe what she's doing. 

Except he can because his parents are truly awful people. He looks to the door, where his father pushes in Dick Grayson.

Dick Grayson. Tim's  _ hero. _ The first person that he ever remembers hugging him.

The alpha who's standing in front of him with eyes dark, and a low growl emitting from his throat.

His mother gives a light chuckle. "Have fun, boys. Make a strong alpha grandson for me."

The rut smells strong. Tim opens his mouth to beg for mercy, but only a whimper escapes him. She quits the room, laughing with his father as they leave their fourteen year old son to be raped by an alpha that they've drugged.

Dick Grayson tilts his head, looks at Tim curled up on the bed, and then pounces.

He gives Tim no time to adjust, no time to fight him off. Fingers are already inside him, and Tim opens his mouth to scream only for a hand to be slapped over it. He keeps screaming, as loudly as he can, but he makes no sound. He's trapped here, underneath his childhood hero as he's about to be raped. Tim wants to kick, but his legs are tangled in blankets and they are heavy like lead.

He turns his head away, hoping to shake off the large hand, but no luck. Dick's like a vice as he fingers Tim roughly, no care for his comfort, but only concerned with what he wants to do to Tim.

Dick isn't himself. Tim knows that. But it still hurts to know that this is going to be happening to him, and he can't do anything to stop him.

The fingers are removed from him, but Tim is given no time to feel relief when the thick head of Dick's cock presses into him. He's crying now, and he can't stop. Strong, gulping sobs as he's being raped by the man he's admired ever since he was four years old, because his parents want him to have a child that they can use to manipulate their way into a higher social standing in Gotham.

He swears to himself then and there that if he actually manages to survive a pregnancy and childbirth, he won't treat his child like this. No, he's going to make sure that they know he won't expect anything out of them, and certainly. . . . And certainly not this.

No matter what his parents do to him or what they threaten him with, he'll protect his child.

Because he knows that no matter what, he's going to have to have one. He wondered why medication and razors were taken out of his bathroom, hangers out of the closet, and even shoelaces out of his shoes. He had no idea that this was their plan, but they've taken away every way that he could abort a child or kill himself here in this room.

That fact just makes him cry harder, as the angry alpha above him thrusts roughly into his aching body. The hand is gone from his mouth, but Tim can't get the energy to do anything more than whimper. Dick is biting his neck, and the nips hurt. He thinks that he's going to look like he's been completely devoured by the time this is over.

If it's ever going to be over. Dick has stamina, and Tim doesn't know how long it's going to be before he's finished. He just wants it done, but Dick is grunting above him, and he closes his eyes. Dick doesn't notice.

And Tim doesn't know how long it is before Dick comes inside him, the come burning his insides as broken sobs escape him. He can feel Dick's knot, growing, forcing his body to take way more than he feels prepared to give. "Please," he whispers. "Please stop."

Dick doesn't listen. And it's only the beginning.

*

Tim doesn't know how long the induced rut last, but he thinks it's about twelve hours. And that tracks with how his body feels lacking food and the only water he can have is bottles next to the bed, that he can only reach when Dick is taking a break.

Not that he takes very many.

The sun is creeping through the windows when Dick finally falls asleep, the blue hour casting his features into a beautiful light.

Tim can only imagine them snarling above him, and his entire body trembles.

He didn't want this. He doesn't know why his parents did this to him aside from their own selfish wishes. He tries so hard to be a good son to them, to prove that he can be the alpha they dreamed about, and this is how they repay him.

He wants to cry, but he doesn't have anymore tears to cry.

He just stays in the bed, shivering until his parents come in. His father grunts as he slings Dick's arm around his shoulder, and his mother helps him carry him away.

Tim didn't even have to be told, and he doesn't dare move away now. Not when they're going to come back and do what they need to do to make sure that they have a grandchild.

He should be fighting harder, but they aren’t going to stop until they succeed.

Plus, he doesn't think he can move. Every part of his body is so sore, and it makes him want to cry and cry and cry.

His mother comes back a few minutes later, holding something in her hands. It's thick and short, and it almost looks like a plug-

He attempts to scuttle away, but he can't make his arms obey him at all. His mother's mouth twists as she looks at the mess on the bed, before she reaches in between Tim's legs and shoves the plug in. He wants to scream again, but his throat is so sore and broken that not a single sound can escape him other than his choked-off whimpers. She pushes it in as far as it will go, and Tim feels more tears running down his face.

He really is nothing to her. Nothing to his father. He's just a vessel to give them the grandchild they want more than anything in the world, the best way to fix their past "mistakes".

He places his hand on his stomach, and turns to stare at the wall.

His life is over now.

He's nothing more than a broodmare.

*

He doesn't know if he wants to be pregnant or not.

Pregnancy means having a child before he's fifteen, but not being pregnant means that he'll be forced fake heats after fake heats while they bring in alpha after alpha to rape him.

What's the worst fate here? Tim really doesn't know.

He's stuck in his room, only allowed a few hours of sunshine and not even a half-hour of fresh air, and that's only if the weather's good.

He spends his days reading the books that they've approved or watching the movies that they say are okay. It's a boring life, and yet somehow completely exhausting.

When he finds himself nauseated despite eating the blandest foods, and his pecs are tender, and when he finds himself crying in his bed every morning despite knowing that he shouldn't be so pathetic in front of his parents four months after  _ that night _ , he knows.

When they notice two weeks later and make him pee on a stick, it's just confirmed.

He thinks that he should feel something, but he can't feel anything.

*

The next couple months are a blur and an eternity.

His stomach gets bigger. His back constantly aches. He's always running to the bathroom. His feet hurt because his ankles are swollen. He's always crying.

He's terrified of dying.

He doesn't want to die.

But he thinks he might be.

He doesn't think that he should be staring at his stomach and how it pops on his body more than he thinks is normal.

He can't sleep comfortably, his heart gripped with fear over the future. It's like a horror movie, everyday he finds something new and terrible about his body that terrifies him.

The scariest moment is when he's gripping a pillow to his face in the middle of the night as he feels what can only be the child pushing against the walls of his body.

It's kicking now. It's real and it's alive.

This is something that's happening to him.

And Tim can't stop crying for all he's worth. Sobs are forcing his way out of his body as he's being used as a battering ram by little kicks and punches, and he doesn't want to be here anymore. Not when his entire body is so exhausted.

His parents see the baby move two days later, and their smiles sicken him.

But the very next day he's made to put on something that isn't sweatpants for the first time in months, nice clothes, clothes that make him feel more like a human. Even though the clothes are designed to highlight his bump and he feels exhausted getting in them. He doesn't dare look in the mirror. He doesn't want to see how big he actually is, the image that lives in his mind is terror enough.

He's pushed into a car, nausea creeping in his throat as his father rips through the city, talking excitedly with his mother.

He has no idea what his life is going to be like now.

His parents are talking eagerly, looking back at him and smirking. They want him to have this baby, and they don't care about him at all.

He's their broodmare.

Tim stares at the floor of the car, not willing to look out the window so he can’t see the city. He wants to, more than anything in the world, but the fact remains that seeing the city means seeing freedom, freedom that he's never going to get.

The baby continues kicking a terrible rhythm in his stomach, and Tim bites his lips to keep from crying as his parents drive and drive and drive.

He doesn't know how long it takes to get to Wayne Manor, but the car's sudden screech as they park in front of it makes Tim's heart fall into his chest and through the floor. He doesn't dare move until his father throws open the door, and drags him to the front door. "Let your mother and I do the talking," he demands. "And don't say a fucking word to anyone."

Tim doesn't know how to respond to that, because he doesn't know who he could even talk to. He's nothing more than a pregnant omega teenager. No one's ever going to listen to him.

His father pounds on the door, and his mother wraps a strong, sharp hand around his arm, squeezing it tightly as a reminder that Tim shouldn't say a fucking word. It's opened by Bruce Wayne's butler, Alfred Pennyworth, whose eye's fly open at the sight in front of him. His parents push through as they demand to see Bruce Wayne. They loosen their grip, heading off in some direction, Alfred following after them, demanding to know what's going on.

He only takes a moment to yell "Jason!" before he leaves Tim's sight.

He yells for Robin.

Tim instantly tries to make himself look smaller as soon as Robin enters the room. He can't stop shaking, and to his horror, tears are starting to stream down his face. He's in so much pain and misery right now, and he can't help it. He wraps his arms around himself, but his bump gets in the way, and it just makes him cry harder.

"Hey," he hears. "Kid, can you look at me?"

Tim doesn't want to, but he forces himself to look up and meet Rob-Jason's eyes. They're kind and heartbroken, and Jason looks so worried. "God, kid. Can I hug you?"

Tim bursts into fresh sobs, and falls into Jason's arms. He doesn't remember the last time he was hugged. He doesn't remember  _ ever _ being hugged actually. But Jason's a great hugger. He smells like apples and cherries, and Tim just buries his chest into that strong chest and takes a deep breath, letting the smell overcome him and comfort him. Jason's arms are strong around his back, and he holds Tim like he actually means something, and Tim's never felt like this before.

Tim doesn't know how long he cries, but it feels like forever. His tears finally calm down to something that doesn't sound like he's dying, but he still doesn't want to leave Jason's arms. And luckily, Jason isn't making any indication that he wants him to. Only thing he does is ask Tim very quietly, "What's wrong?"

And then it all comes out.

What Dick did. What his parents did to Dick. What they did to him. What he's going to have to do as soon as his parents get their way. He's crying again by the end of it, but Jason's just holding him closer, growling low in his throat as he holds him close.

"I'm sorry," he chokes out after he finishes getting out the words. "For putting this all on you."

"Don't apologize," Jason hisses. "You have done absolutely nothing wrong. Can I take you to my room? Get you into comfortable clothes?"

Tim doesn't remember what feeling comfort is like, but he nods. He thinks that Jason could make him feel more comfortable than anyone in the world, and he barely even knows him. He nods, and Jason scoops him into his arms like he weighs nothing. Tim just buries his face in Jason's neck, and closes his eyes as Jason carries him to his room, content in breathing in that sweet and kind scent. He doesn't want to let go of Jason when the older boy puts him on the bed, but then he remembers what Jason told him about getting into comfortable clothes, and he consents to letting Jason go just so he can put them on.

"Thank you," he mumbles into Jason's sheets as Jason grabs him clothes, pushing them into his hand.

"No problem," Jason whispers back. "I'm glad to help. Do you need help getting dressed?"

Tim shakes his head, and starts shrugging out of his clothes. He sighs when he slides into the big t-shirt and pajama bottoms that Jason gave him, liking that they smell like him.

"Okay," Jason says, when Tim lays back down and Jason's tucking him in. "I need to go find B and Alfred real quick and tell them what you told me, but I'll be right back."

That makes Tim's eyes fly wide open as his heart sinks.

"No," he whines. "No, please don't." He doesn't want them to hear about this at all. His parents are going to be so mad that he ruined their plans. "I don't want them to get mad."

Jason pets his hair, and coos in sympathy. "Bruce and Alfred won't be mad."

He shakes his head. "No, my parents."

There's something in Jason's face that twists. "Kid, you don't have to worry about your parents. They're . . . they're complete and utter shit, and Bruce is going to take care of you."

Tears cloud Tim's eyes. "He's going to make me marry Dick, isn't he?"

"What?" Jason asks. "Tim, no. He would never do that. Bruce is just going to make sure that your parents are going to go to jail for what they did."

"Then what's going to happen if Dick doesn't marry me?" Tim asks, his throat sore and the tears unable to stop falling. Jason brushes them aside.

"He's going to take you in and he's going to make sure that you're safe and your baby's safe, and you won't have to worry about a thing in the world," Jason answers. "He's not going to leave you out in the cold."

Tim just hugs a pillow close to him. "I don't want to be a burden," he states. "And I'm always a burden."

He can't describe the emotions that are crossing over Jason's face, but eventually the older boy sighs. "Tim, please sleep. I'm going to be right back."

Tim watches him walk out that door, and he wants to yell for him to come back. He can't get out of this bed, but he doesn't want Jason to ruin his life by getting invested in Tim. He just places a hand on his stomach, feeling his child kicking inside.

Somehow, he actually does manage to fall asleep.

*

He wakes up to Jason's scent, fluttering his eyes open when he places a hand on his shoulder. Behind him is Bruce Wayne, looking down at Tim gravely. Without thinking about it, Tim tries to curl up in the bed, but once again that big belly gets in the way. Mr. Wayne holds up a hand. "Tim, I'm not going to do anything," he whispers, his face sad for some reason.

God, Tim made Batman  _ sad. _

"I'm sorry," he whispers, because he's going to ruin Mr. Wayne's life.

Mr. Wayne shakes his head. "It's not your fault for your parent's crimes. They've been arrested, and I'm making sure that the finest lawyers in the world will be able to defend you and my son."

Dick Grayson. Thinking the name makes him flinch. Mr. Wayne frowns even deeper at that. He looks Tim up and down. "Have you seen a doctor for your pregnancy yet?"

He shakes his head. He hasn't seen anyone except his parents. He rolls over on his back, keeping a hand on his stomach. His baby isn't moving now, but it could any minute.

"We'll have to fix that." A strange look crosses Mr. Wayne's face. "Tim, I have to break the news to Dick."

His blood runs cold.

"B,  _ really? _ " Jason hisses. "Can you give the kid a day?"

"Jason, Dick's going to need a day. More than one." Mr. Wayne isn't an old man, but the lines in his face are strangely deep. "This. . . . This is not going to be easy for him. And we need to figure it out sooner rather than later." Mr. Wayne's eyes drift to Tim's stomach. "We've already lost so much."

Tim is shaking in the bed, feeling so cold despite all the blankets surrounding him. He wants to be warm, so why can't he feel warm? Jason notices it, and grabs another blanket, wrapping it around Tim carefully. He smiles gently as he asks, "Anything else I can get for you, kid?"

Tim hates himself for how easy the response drips out of his mouth. "Can I have another hug?"

A lot of emotions cross Jason's face, but the only thing he does is nod before he slides underneath the covers, pulling Tim close to him and kissing the top of his head. "Don't worry, I got you."

Tim can't help it. He bursts into tears, and cries into Jason's chest as the older omega rocks him to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm salazarastark on tumblr as well, so follow me [here](https://salazarastark.tumblr.com/)! I'm not as active as I'd like to be, but I'm always up for talking about my fics or anything else!


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